Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Tcherkask


Tcherkask
by: Jesse S. Mitchell

Cold water is flat and through the back-marshes
And along the beach, it spreads out forever…
Flat, I walked across it and I wrote my name on it
I made it mine…
Literally.
Watching us move, their eyeballs stare
And look like gunshots…(what are they looking at?)
But its the sunshine and silence drops
On us like bombs
Deep down underground explosions
Like land mines
Bouncy betty…
Blowing dirt over our skin
With Goosebumps and stray hairs
(what are they looking at?)
I was wearing that black Ramones shirt
The one that is faded and stretched out
And never looked good on either of us.
I kick the sand back into the ocean.
(what are they looking at…with their cold flat eyes, I swear they are dead…I almost died one time, honestly and I came right back like Odin with secret powers…what all those people looking at?)
We Are just a couple of wild animals looking for a whirlwind place, a storm, a home, a view to something better.
Every peasant boy and girl from Lucknow to Tcherkask, Hammersmith to Kentucky knows that there are no half-measures in plunder,
Half a soul is nothing close to as good as all
But you will be punished just the same.

3 comments:

Old 333 said...

Enjoyed this a second time. I think the eyeballs like gunshots are simply perfect.

Thanks for sharing this, Jesse -

Peter G.

the feeling lioness said...

dark and sleek
this was like walking through a dark alley where there is cold, bleak air
and where there's water trickling down narrow walls that engulf one
i liked it a lot

mindlovemisery said...

Brilliant work, those last lines truth! I love the way you write its very visceral, rebellious